And I understand that you’re not lying. You don’t actually know that you can’t be here for me. You don’t know what it involves, so you’re not even aware of the monstrosity that you’re promising me right now.

Even if you knew, I could never allow you to be here for me. Because I would say things like, “I want to be dead now,” in all seriousness, and there would be absolutely nothing that you could say to me to make me feel better or want any differently, despite your best efforts.

You would feel helpless. And I would feel worse because it would only justify my feelings of hopelessness.

It’s all just gone and nothing exists to draw from. To have felt it drain from my body, like blood, now I’m cold. There’s nothing left that can be said, it’s all done with. Take me from here, I surrender.

What is it when you can’t see anything different for yourself for the future? They’ve told me that it’s ‘helplessness’, but is it necessarily? It’s not merely ‘hopelessness’ if it’s actually truth, is it? What if what I’m foreseeing for myself is actually fate? An inevitable, uncontrollable fate?

I’m somewhat removed from reality a lot of the time. I live a life in a delusional world in my head and then I project those delusions into the real world. Sometimes it almost feels as though I walk another dimension apart from everyone else. But I know reality well enough – I’ve touched it and visited it at times, enough, to know that where I am and where I need to be; that who I am and who I need to be; that what I do and what I need to do are places that are poles apart – a travel from one to the other that requires efforts so vast and an eternity in time.

Sometimes when I do the calculations in my head, I’m forced to realise that I don’t actually have the time or the energy to make it to where I need to be. As in, I don’t have the years left in my life to become who/what/where I need to be, nor do I have the fuel to get their.

What do I do? Do I go on even while knowing this? I just can’t bear this forever.